Falling Like Rain
by Fires Of Raze
Summary: Jack died after Ennis turned him away that one last time and now Ennis lives along in the house Jack dreamed of up on Brokeback Mountain but will he ever forgive himself for losing Jack forever or will his guilt and grief tear his heart to shreds?


_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. Nor do I own the song, "Tonight I wanna cry"... That belongs to Keith Urban _

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**Falling Like Rain**

The late night moon shone down in silvery beams through the slightly open curtains covering a slightly open window which looked into the somewhat tidy room in a somewhat tidy house in the middle of nowhere near the top of Brokeback Mountain. Near the middle of the room sat a large bed, the covers strewn pulled neatly up over the figure of what seemed to be a man sleeping peacefully through the night with the soft glow of a television muted on the other side of the room, the light reflecting off a few simple framed pictures on the walls... The only decoration in the room. If anyone had been looking through the window that night, that's what they would have thought, but in reality the man wasn't sleeping, nor was he anywhere near it. He rolled over slowly and glanced at the clock on his nightstand, squinting in the dim moonlight and sighing when he saw it read 2 in the morning.

"Wha' the hell is wrong with you Ennis...? You gotta get some sleep..."

The man muttered to himself and ran his hands over his face, rubbing the blurriness out of his eyes. Defeated once again, he pulled himself to a sitting position and pulled out his journal from the nightstand drawer next to him, switching on the light as well so he could read the past entries as well as add his thoughts once again to the only friend he had now in the world. He picked up a half empty bottle of wine off the floor next to him and took a swig of it, flinching at the still strange taste that he wasn't quite used to then flicked open the small lock and creaked the worn book open to the first page... His very first entry. He'd never kept a journal as a kid... Hadn't ever really had the privilege after his parents had died. Only a couple years ago had he started... Right after the death of the one he cared for so much as a way of letting out all the guilt and despair that kept him up almost every night...

_Alone in this house again tonight  
I got the TV on, the sound turned down and a bottle of wine  
There's pictures of you and I on the walls around me  
The way that it was and could have been surrounds me  
I'll never get over you walkin' away_

Still to this day he hated himself for the memories that first entry brought back to him. He'd gotten the news by a returned postcard and then through Laureen that Jack had died a few days after Ennis had turned him away once again and sent him back on home and he'd started his journal a couple days after that. Around town, he'd had to act all tough, like the death of his 'friend' hadn't meant that much to him, but inside his heart tore in two everytime he so much as thought about the time he and his beloved rodeo had spent together... So little precious time. Finally following the dream Jack had once had, he'd gotten the best job he could and raised some money up to buy a small portion of land up on Brokeback Mountain before building the house he'd found the plans for in the pocket of the shirts he'd taken from Jack's house.

The house came along well, since he built most of it by himself and needed something to do with the endless empty days that then and now filled his lonely life. Once the house had been built he began staying up there pretty much permanently, only going down for occasional groceries that he couldn't get off the small farm he'd raised or for materials to fix up his new house some more. During the brief times he did go down to town, he forced himself to put on his normal stern face, speaking gruffly yet politly to any who spoke to him first and tipping his hat at those he didn't feel like actually talking to. He never spent more the about a half hour in town though... It was about all he could handle without falling back into sadness and having to go back to his get-away in the mountains that he and Jack had come to cherish so much.

His sadness thrived and ruled his life for the most part, though he rarely ever let the emotions actually come out in the way of tears or grieving anger. Sometimes though, if he drank enough wine, (He hadn't been able to drink whiskey since Jack had died), he'd find himself lost just enough to finally let his emotions pour out like a dam broken and freed by a raging storm...

_I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show  
And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control  
But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain  
To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain  
From my eyes  
Tonight I wanna cry_

During the day, when he wasn't working on the ranch or taking care of the horses he'd bought and trained to be good breeding horses, he found himself sitting at his desk in the room next to his bedroom, going through all the old postcards he and Jack had sent back and forth to each other during their times apart. Although the postcards were fading, the words hardly legible anymore and the pictures of Brokeback Mountain chipping in places, he still sat and stared down at them, having memorized the sayings on the back long ago. Dreams of moving away together, hopes of seeing each other soon... All the simple words Jack had written to him over the years flowed through his mind in the voice of the one he loved so much. He knew sitting around in his depression wasn't helping his already deteriorating health at all but he knew his heart would break either way, whether it be slowly and painfully as he tried to put the past behind him, or faster and more personally by reliving moments with his love over and over again till his heart could break no more...

_Would it help if I turned a sad song on  
"All By Myself" would sure hit me hard now that you're gone  
Or maybe unfold some old yellow lost love letters  
It's gonna hurt bad before it gets better  
But I'll never get over you by hidin' this way_

Always he'd read the cherished postcards for some time, sitting in the serene silence of the mountain as he heard Jack's voice resounding in his head, only to let it fade away after an hour or so to find himself back in the harsh reality that the one he'd loved so much was gone. With that knowledge placed in his heart once again, he'd always return back to his room and into his bed where he was now, journal on his lap and bottle of wine in his hand, ready to relive the painful neccesity of the memories again.

_I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show  
And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control  
But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain  
To hell with this pride, let it fall like rain  
From my eyes  
Tonight I wanna cry_

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_Please review if you liked it! _


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